Page 147 of White Lies


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I stand up with the impact of that statement. “My father and Bill reconciled?”

“They did. And just in time. It was only about a month before your father’s death.”

“Do you know what the falling-out was about, Kasey?”

“No. Do you?”

“I thought I did, but I have a hard time believing they reconciled under the circumstances as I thought I knew them.”

“I can’t help you there. Your father never shared that with me, and Bill didn’t, either. All I know is that the man seems sincere in wanting to call you family.” He hesitates. “Look. I’m just the messenger, and I wanted to talk to you about this now, not tomorrow night, simply because I didn’t want you to hear I’d met with him through another source. We do have some wagging tongues in this town.”

“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry to put you in the middle of this. I’ll call him. I’ll make sure he leaves you out of this.”

“I’m not concerned about me, but I am concerned about you. You’re alone, Faith. He’s family.”

“He’s not my family,” I say, and suddenly I want to get the meeting with him over and done with. “Hold on a second.” I cover the phone and speak to Nick: “Dinner tonight?” He nods, and I uncover the phone. “Nick and I actually just got into town. Can we move dinner back to tonight?”

“Of course. Where and when?”

“How about the Harvest Moon Café at eight? That gives you time to close up shop there.”

“That works. I’ll see you then.”

I end the call, setting my phone on the island. “Your uncle’s timing is suspect,” Nick says. “What did he want?”

“He bought a thousand bottles of wine and then convinced Kasey to soften me up and look at him as family.”

“On the day you now own the winery,” Nick says. “I’ve thought for a while now that he was behind the bank withholding your inheritance.”

“He’s filthy rich,” I say. “He doesn’t need the winery, nor has he ever approached me to buy it.”

“But he might have approached your mother.”

“Yes. He might have.”

“And she would have told him that you wouldn’t sell.”

“That’s true, too.”

“His wife is filthy rich,” he says. “And the word is that she treats him like a kept animal on an allowance.”

“So, he wants his own assets?”

“It could be that simple,” Nick says, “but I’m still of the belief that there is a hidden financial resource within the winery. And that call I got. That was Beck, letting me know about Kasey and your uncle. He didn’t like how familiar they seemed.”

“They’ve known each other longer than I’ve been alive,” I say. “And they were friends at one point. But I can tell you this. When my father shut Bill out, so did Kasey. He was my father’s best friend. And this is over now, anyway, right?”

“It is, but if I’m right and your uncle was behind this, expect him to try to buy you out.”

“You think he’s still a problem.”

“I think he upsets you and that’s a problem I’m going to make go away. Send him to me. I will bust the fucker’s balls. The end.”

My phone rings again. I glance at the number. “It’s just Josh.” I decline the call.

“We’re here for thirty minutes, and you’re ignoring your agent who is suddenly ‘just’ Josh. Call him back.”

“You don’t even like him.”

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